


Starlight

by maggneto



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Bard has a nightmare, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Thrandy comforts him, if you look really hard you might find a plot, lets be honest, we all know what that comforting looks like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggneto/pseuds/maggneto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard is nervous about being king and has a nightmare. Thranduil comforts him beneath the stars and teaches him the ways and the history of the elves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlight

The sword swung through the air with a metallic ring as Bard pierced the creature in the chest. He didn’t even spare a glance at his newest victim as he withdrew the sword and continued throughout the city. Sweat clung to dirty skin as he swung and sliced his way through several more victims barely noticing the look of terror on their face. Sparing a moment to look, Bard expected to see the dirt and grime of an orc beneath his sword but instead he saw the shocked face of a townsperson. He glanced up in surprise and noticed orcs running not towards him, but alongside him. Bard tried to find the feeling of disgust at killing his fellow man but it was not there. The desire to continue was clear and present, though. He didn’t understand where this rage came from but he could not deny it. He felt pleasure as he fought his way through the streets. The dragon had infected him he realized at last. Yes, Smaug was destroyed, never to return but his effects lingered. The dragon’s fury had found a place in Bard that he did not know existed. He felt power surge through his veins, his wrath unending.

His breath caught in his throat as he noticed the elven king about ten yards ahead of him. The hesitance was not borne of delight, however, but from the realization that he was within reach of killing the great Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm. He charged ever closer and as his blade rose, getting closer and closer Thranduil began to yell. Hushed but insistent, “Bard! Bard, please wake up!” His body shot up with a start, gasping for breath as he took in his surroundings. Sweat clung to his forehead, muscles clenched tight in fear. Bard slowly came to an understanding that he had been dreaming. Thranduil began to stroke through his damp hair while muttering soothing words to his lover. The two could not deny their attraction and after almost losing one another in the battle beneath the mountain they found no reason to deny themselves the pleasure of the other’s company. Since Bard had reluctantly taken up a pseudo-leadership of Dale, not many commented on the newly formed relationship.

“Shh, it was only a dream melamin.” Thranduil muttered and placed a kiss to Bard’s temple. He knew it was always an effective way to calm the bowman. “This instance was worse than those previous, though. You were shaking with the intensity of it. Shouting in pain.” Nightmares had become a common occurrence since the battle. Thranduil was used to comforting Bard after a rough night of memories and vice versa.

“It was not about the battle. Well, it was but it was all different,” Bard whispered.

“How so?”

“I was,” he paused, trying to make the words form, “killing. I killed so many. With so much rage.”

“Yes you protected your city well that day.” Thranduil replied.

“No Thran, this was different. I wasn’t killing orcs. I was killing _humans_ ; people of Laketown,” he sighed turning his head to the side. He continued to tell Tranduil about the dream; of the rage he could still feel burning in his chest, of the apathy and disregard for his people. “I almost killed _you_ Thranduil.” The elf merely looked at him with concern, seeing he was not finished. “I am afraid of what I will become. I felt that rage much too easily, accepted the sword much too gladly.”

Thranduil tried to reassure him, “It was a dream, melamin. Reality is altered in our unconscious state.”

“Does a subconscious mind not speak our unutterable truths? I have been given too much power already. I will succumb to it surely, as my ancestors have before me.”

“Your ancestors fell to greed and selfish desires, the likes of which I cannot find in you. This dream has merely magnified the fears you thought you might have, fears that have no merit in my opinion. You have proven your worth and your good conscious over and over again.” Thranduil rose gracefully from the bed to retrieve a wet cloth from the bedside pan. He stroked Bard’s forehead hoping to cool the man down and calm his worries.

Bard remained silent, mulling over his love’s words in his mind. As much as he wanted to believe the sentiments, he remembered the feelings from the dream, how real they felt. The room began to feel smaller and warmer as the dream replayed in his mind. He took deeper and deeper breaths until he simply could not stand the confinement any longer. He felt he was being strangled. He stood up suddenly from the bed, “I need some air.”

Thranduil watched with sadness and understanding as Bard stalked out the door and down the stairs. After a few moments he followed and found Bard leaning against the entrance of the small home. “Come with me,” he said quietly. The look on Thranduil’s face and the way he turned away to begin walking left no room for argument, and Bard sleepily followed. The elven king was confident in his ever-vigilant guards standing watch outside of the house to watch over the bowman’s children. They were dressed in only their thin nightclothes but the summer evening was warm and pleasant as Thranduil led them out of town and into the surrounding forest.

 They fell into step beside each other as the elf began to speak in his calm, melodic voice. “Elves have successfully ruled for multiple millennia; I, myself for thousands of years. An unworthy elf is never permitted to oversee a kingdom. There are many different ways to rule a people, despite what some might have you believe. One fact does remain true, though—the key is confidence. A king must have confidence in his abilities, in his people, and in his kingdom or it will surely fall to ruin. In my opinion Bard the Bowman, you have every necessary quality to rule except the essential confidence. It baffles me so.”

Bard did not have an answer to Thranduil’s surprising admission. Soon they came upon a clearing in the woods and Bard could not have formed words if his life depended on it. Lush green grass covered a small area surrounding by tall trees, their leaves and vines descending from above, creating a canopy.  The ground glistened from the light of the stars. The ethereal glow of the clearing awed Bard into further silence. Thranduil walked ahead and lay gracefully in the grass. He held out his hand as an invitation and Bard readily accepted. As the man lay back the beauty of the stars captured his vision as his beautiful lover curled against his side.

“You are aware of the story of the Children of Ilúvatar, no? The Firstborn elves.” Thranduil asked.

“Vaguely,” Bard hesitantly replied, “I assumed all stories to be myths.”

“Hmm, most are,” Thranduil hummed. “They awoke in Cuiviénen, beneath starlight as the Sun and the Moon had yet to be created. Most underestimate the importance of the stars to the elves. They are used as guidance, as comfort, they provide an understanding of this world. You can say we have starlight in our blood.”

Bard hummed quietly, “that I believe.”

“The leaders of the past have used the stars to guide their kingdoms. We have even named most.” He mentioned absently.

“Really?” Bard asked, looking at Thranduil for the first time since gazing upon the sky. This he had not known.

“Yes.” Thranduil began to point out several stars, explaining to his lover the importance of each. Bard was simply mesmerized by the way the elven names fell from the king’s mouth like a song, he was unable to pay attention.

Thranduil attempted to point out a constellation in the sky but the bowman wasn’t able to see it. “Hmm,” Thranduil hummed, “I think I have noticed a similar pattern closer to home.” He rose to his knees and slowly turned to straddle Bard. The elf’s hands started at his slim, tanned hips and slowly moved up, sliding off the thin tunic as he went. Finally Bard’s chest was exposed and Thranduil immediately began to trace patterns on his skin. Moving from one freckle to the next, muttering elvish names as he went, the king mapped out the constellation on Bard’s skin.

“I’m still not quite sure if I see it,” Bard muttered with a coy look to the elf straddling his hips.

“Oh? Let me make it clear.” Thranduil moved his lips to the first freckle, just an inch away from Bard’s nipple and dragged his tongue to the next, repeating his motions until Bard began to squirm and moan beneath him. Thranduil could feel as the man began to harden as he moved his lips up, kissing and licking up Bard’s throat, leaving a constellation of his own. Bard became tired of the teasing and grabbed the long silken hair of the elf and pulled him into a kiss. It was long overdue and they both melted into the pressure, Bard’s tongue entering Thranduil’s mouth to stroke against his. Bard quickly undid Thranduil’s robe and slipped it from his shoulders, leaving him stark naked beneath the starlight. _God_ he loved that this was all Thranduil wore to bed

“More,” Thranduil panted, separating their mouths and moving his lips back to Bard’s deliciously toned chest. As he moved lower he found each of Bard’s nipples and sucked them into his plump lips. When his lips began to kiss below Bard’s belly button and through the line of hair, he slowly pulled Bard’s trousers down his legs revealing the man’s stiff erection, prominent against his stomach. Without hesitating, Thranduil took the man into his mouth sucking hard until he reached the base. Bard gasped with pleasure, hand flying up to grasp once more at the silver hair. Thranduil licked and sucked the man’s member eagerly, taking him in until he hit the back of his throat before retreating to suck the head.

The sight of Thranduil straddling his legs, head moving up and down vigorously was almost too much for Bard and he quickly pulled the elf back up to his face. “Too much, I almost—“ Bard panted, unable to finish as Thranduil’s lips attached to his own.

“Was I making the great Dragonslayer come undone so soon?” the elven king asked coyly.

Bard grunted, “You know what you do to me.” He brought their lips together once more. “I only wish I could have you completely. Right here,” he said with a growl.

“Oh,” Thranduil muttered, “you think so little of me. A king is always prepared.” He pulled a small vial of oil from the pockets of his robe with a smile.

Bard growled and quickly flipped the two over, laying the elf into the grass gently. He attacked Thranduil’s throat with kisses and sucks as the elf writhed beneath him. Now was his turn for revenge. While keeping his lips occupied he quickly uncorked the vile and slicked up his fingers. Avoiding Thranduil’s cock completely he went straight for the elf’s puckered hole teasing finger in slowly. Thranduil lost his composure as he let out a moan. Bard was instantly glad they had gone this far into the forest. Bard continued to prepare the elf, slipping in two more fingers gradually. When he could not contain his need any longer he pulled back, slicked up his erection and waited with the tip at Thranduil’s entrance, looking directly into icy blue eyes. They stared back wantonly showing everything Bard needed to see. “I love you,” he whispered, “so much.”

“Amin mela lle.” Thranduil replied. He couldn’t contain his gasp as Bard pushed in, feeling filled completely with pleasure. Bard took a moment, feeling the tight heat surrounding him before he started to move, slowly thrusting in and out of his lover. As his thrusts became quicker and more aggressive he leaned back to appreciate the sight before him: the pale, toned chest of his love dotted with starlight, Thranduil’s face contorted with pleasure, his body writhing with each thrust. The small clearing was filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of skin slapping, and uncontrollable moans. The seemingly unfavorable sensations only spurred Bard on, snapping his hips even harder against the lithe body beneath him.

He leaned back down, hiding his face in the crook of Thranduil’s neck, licking and sucking along the porcelain skin. “Please,” Thranduil begged, locking eyes with Bard. A few strokes of his cock was all it took to have the elf coming undone, his heat squeezing Bard impossibly hard as come dotted their chests. The sensations were too much and soon Bard succumbed to the pleasure, shooting inside of his lover.

Bard climbed off of Thranduil, lying down beside him. The distance was apparently too much as Thranduil soon curled himself around the man. They knew to be innovative with the cleanup, and would soon venture back into town as the light of dawn was just barely upon them. But all of that could wait.  As they came down from their highs they looked into the night sky once more. The endless stars had seen many before them and would surely see their end. But for now, they held tight and appreciated the love and comfort they found in each other and in the stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> That was the briefest of backstories for the elves but I apologize if I got anything wrong. I found my elvish phrases form (grey-company.org/Circle/language/phrase). I would really appreciate any criticism or comments as this is my first time posting to this site (and my first time writing smut). Thanks for reading! Also you can find me on tumblr at elvishallure


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